Secrets better left buried
by tashaxxx
Summary: The Musketeers are forced to shelter in a village when Aramis is injured. But Village hold secrets that will show a past better left buried. Chapter 9, final chapter now up :)
1. Chapter 1

Treville had sent Athos, Porthos, Aramis and D'artagnan to find a group of bandits who had been robbing and tormenting villages not 5 miles from Paris. It was meant to have been a simple easy mission. Except the bandits had been smarter than usual. Somehow they found out about the Musketeers coming to arrest them and had managed to ambush them on the road. That was how they were now, bandits surrounding the four of them armed and ready for a fight.

"I suggest you drop your weapons and come quietly." Athos calmly stated at the same time as he pulled out his sword. One of the bandits swore rudely before taking a run at the four armed men. Porthos stepped forward, killing the bandit with his sword before the bandit could blink. There was a second of silence before the bandits came down on the four men, thinking it how easy it would be to kill them. The musketeers were outnumbered 5 to 1, how hard could it be.

The fight didn't last more than 5 minutes, each musketeer dispatching one bandit each quickly enough. Clashes of steel on steel rang through the forest as the musketeers fought the bandits. The musketeers, while outnumbered, where better trained than the common thieves and it wasn't soon before most were dead or running.

Aramis and Porthos shared a grin as the bandits seemed to realise they couldn't win and ran off. Athos frowned as he took out the final bandit in the clearing, knowing that tracking the others down would be harder now. D'artagnan was grinning as he walked over the three musketeers, sword covered in blood. "Where do you think there heading?" He asked, sheathing his sword.

None of them noticed that one of the bandits had hidden behind a tree, just off the path. He was lying low on the grass, musket aimed at the four musketeers, who were watching the last of the robbers run of. "We'll have to follow them." Athos said, pulling himself onto his horse. The others made to follow when a shot rang through the forest.

The world seemed to still for a moment as Aramis felt the blood reach up to touch his fingers. A short gasp fell from his lips as the world seemed to tilt. Porthos and D'artagnan were at his side in an instant, holding him up. Somehow his legs didn't want to support him as the warm wet blood slipped from his side. Looking up, Aramis noted that Porthos had been replaced by Athos. Blinking sluggishly, Aramis didn't fight as his friends placed him onto ground. "Aramis?" D'artagnan's voice seemed to be far away.

"I'm fine." Aramis struggled to get back onto his feet, but Athos put a hand on his shoulder, holding him in place.

Athos had grabbed a bit of material from his uniform, wrapping it around Aram's side, making him wince a little in pain. No matter how many times you were hit with a musket ball, the pain remained the same. A dull thumping pain that beat to the pace of his heart, which had sped noticeable Aramis' thought dryly.

Porthos had returned, pulling a man with him. The bandit who had shot him. The man was grinning as he looked over at the three musketeers but quickly stopped when Porthos punched him in the stomach. The big musketeer looked angry and Aramis almost felt sorry for the bandit.

"Where did the other bandits go?" Athos' tone was calm and steady but there was a glint in his eyes that told of murder if the bandit didn't cooperate. When the bandit didn't answer straight away, Porthos punched him again hard enough for them to hear a sickening crunch as fist met nose.

"I don't know." When Porthos raised his fist to punch the man again, he held up his hands quickly. "Wait. They might have gone to the village about an hour away from here."

"Where?" Porthos growled at the man, shaking him with enough force to make the bandits teeth click. He gestured wildly the way the bandits had fled. Porthos nodded, letting the bandit go so suddenly he fell to the ground.

"Tie him to the tree; we'll pick him up on our way back." Porthos nodded, doing as Athos said before making his way back over to D'artagnan and Aramis.

"We need to go." Athos said, looking worriedly at Aramis who had his teeth gritted together in pain. "Will you be alright?"

"I'll manage." Aramis managed to get out as another stab of pain hit his side. Athos frowned at the pale state of the younger man unsure about whether to believe him or not. But he didn't have a choice. They couldn't take care of Aramis' wound here.

While Athos and Porthos steadied Aramis onto his feet D'artagnan grabbed the horses. Aramis had gone noticeably paler when he'd stood up but he grinned in reassurance. Glancing at Aramis' wound, Athos frowned noticing the fabric had turned a darker stain from the blood. Somehow they managed to get the injured musketeer sitting upright on the horse and soon they were riding the way the bandits had gone.

"Is he going to be alright?" D'artagnan asked from where he rode next to Athos. Porthos was riding next to Aramis, keeping an eye on their friend to make sure he didn't fall off his horse. When Athos said nothing, D'artagnan tried a different question. "Is it a good idea to go to this village? It might be an ambush."

Athos turned to look behind him then, noting the pained look on Aramis' face before nodding. "We need to get help for Aramis and there isn't a village anywhere near here. I don't think we have a choice."

No one said anything as the four men travelled along the road. Aramis' breaths had turned into short gasps of pain the further they rode and Porthos was starting to worry they wouldn't make it the village. He'd tried to say as much but Aramis had waved the concerns off, stubbornly.

By the time they reached the village the sun had lowered in the sky until it was near enough dark and Aramis was barely staying on the horse. A crown of curious villagers had appeared on front door steps as the four men walked further into the village. "I don't like this Athos." Porthos stated, reaching for his pistol.

"Nor do I." Athos had his pistol out already, watching the curious faces as they passed. "Is there anyone who could help us?" Athos shouted to the crowd. "Our friend is injured."

"Who are ya?" A voice shouted from the crowd, in answer to Athos' statement. A group had dispersed from the growing crowd of villagers, each holding a crude looking weapon. Slowly, the musketeers came to a stop. Each had a hold of their pistol. Ready to fire if any trouble came, which Athos hoped wouldn't happen when he looked at the unsteady hand Aramis held his pistol with. "What do ya want?" The same man asked, waving a blunted sword at them. "We don't want know trouble."

"We only seek help. Our friend is injured." Athos repeated, seeing the way Aramis was swaying in the saddle and the growing crowd the musketeer was growing more and more nervous.

"You aren't with those bandits are you?" That explained it, Athos thought.

"No, we are of the Kings Musketeers." Athos answered back, keeping his pistol in his hand.

The man who had been talking to them conversed with others before nodding his head. "Follow me."

Athos jumped from his horse, followed shortly by Porthos, D'artagnan and Aramis. Aramis almost collapsed onto the ground as he got off from his horse but Porthos steadied him. "Do you have a name, Monsieur?"

Grunting, the man turned to look at them. The evening light was a poor light and from the distance they had been the musketeers hadn't been able to clearly see the man. He had a kind old face, considerably older than the four of them in his early 50's. His hair was greying and he held a grave look in his eyes. When he turned to look at the four of them, he seemed to stop his face paling. "Aramis?"

Hearing his name spoken, Aramis lifted his head to look at the man. "You know this man?" D'artagnan asked. Aramis opened his mouth to reply when a sudden wave of pain came from his side. Groaning, Aramis felt his legs collapse from under him and if not for Porthos and D'artagnan he would have fallen face down into the mud.

A distressed look fell over the mans' face. "My name is Antonie Rosette. My wife, Marie, will help. Follow me and I will explain."

**Hop you enjoyed and please review :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm not sure how long this is going to be so I'm just going to keep writing.**

Aramis was in a daze as they followed Antonie down a familiar street. How hadn't he realised they were so near to his home? Porthos was sending concerned looks to his friend as he supported him down the streets. Aramis had a hand clenched on his side. The blood was still streaming though it had slowed to nearly stopping. His side was sticky with old blood.

When they reached the small house, Aramis felt a small twinge of familiarity. He hadn't been back here since he'd first left for Paris. Aramis hadn't realised how much he'd missed it until now. "Aramis?" Was that D'artagnan?

"I'm fine." His voice seemed far away now, as if he were outside his own body. Strange. A woman opened the door to the small house with a stern look on her face. Aramis was very familiar with that look and despite the pain in his side a certain warmness crossed over him as he looked at the familiar woman.

"What happened?" Her voice was completely in contrast from her stern face. She was looking at Aramis but her question was aimed at the other musketeers.

"Shot, Madame." Athos answered though Aramis couldn't really here it now. "He'd lost a lot of blood." If Aramis' hearing hadn't gone so muffled he might have thought there was concern in Athos' voice.

"Get him inside." Aramis felt himself being half dragged half carried into the familiar house. "Just there." How had they got into the bedroom? Aramis recognised the room from his time staying with Monsieur and Madame Rosette. It acted as a healing room for anyone who got injured. Her face appeared in his vision, shaking her head in the way she used to do when Aramis got into some sort of trouble. "What have you gone and done now then?" Her tone was stern but Aramis couldn't help but smile at the familiarity of it. Smiling, she lifted something to his mouth to drink. Not having energy to argue he did so. Dark shadows clouded in his vision until everything fell away into blissful silence.

Athos, Porthos and D'artagnan had been ushered out of the room as Aramis started to lose consciousness. At first they'd protested but Madam Rosette had fixed them with a look and it didn't seem wise to argue with the woman. "Do you know who they are?" D'artagnan asked. Athos and Porthos shook their heads, looking up as the front door opened once more. Aramis had never told them much about his past but Athos got the feeling that maybe these where Aramis' parents. They'd seemed like it, at least from what he'd seen in the way they had acted.

"Marie will look after him." Antonie stated as he took a seat at the dining table. "A drink?"

"We'll get it." Porthos said, as Antonie went to get up. The older man nodded, waiting for Porthos to get the wine and cups.

"What's happening here?" Athos asked when they were all seated. Antonie frowned at the question, having expected to be asked how they knew Aramis. "It's his business." Athos said, in answer to the questioning stare.

"Those bandits have been coming into our village for the last few weeks, taking whatever they wanted."

"You couldn't stop it?" Porthos asked.

"We aren't fighters. Anyway, it wasn't until recently that things have gotten out of hand."

When he didn't expand, D'artagnan asked, "What happened recently?"

"They murdered one of the girls in the street."

"Do you know where they might be?" Antonie shook his head to Athos' question and the table fell silent once more.

It was an hour later that Marie Rosette came into the room. Her brown hair had streaks of grey in it not unlike her husband's own hair. D'artagnan looked about ready to say something but Athos gave him a look to be quiet. They waited expectantly for the woman to say something. She seemed content to let them sit and wonder for a few minutes as she took a drink from her cup and Porthos finally lost the patience and asked, "Is he alright?"

"He'll be fine." There was a collective sigh of relief from the musketeers. "You're friends of Aramis'." It was more a statement than a question but D'artagnan still felt the need to speak.

"We are. If you don't mind us asking, how do you know him?" Athos sighed in frustration, cursing the lack of self-control the young Gascon portrayed.

"He's particularly our son." Madam Rosette stated, unsurprisingly to Athos. Porthos had also guessed it but D'artagnan once more looked like he had more questions to ask. Athos quickly put a stop to that, knowing Aramis should be the one to answer the questions.

"I'm sorry for the intrusion but we need a place to stay for the night." Athos stated. It hadn't been obvious until now but D'artagnan and Porthos looked almost as turned as he did.

"Of course you're welcome to stay as long as you want. I'm afraid we only have one guest room but…"

"We'll make do." Porthos interrupted before the woman could offer them her rooms.

It was quickly decided that Athos would take the bed, Porthos the floor and D'artagnan the sofa in the living room. Before Madame and Monsieur Rosette disappeared for bed, Porthos asked, "Is there anyone in the village who may know where the bandits are?" Both shook their head as they left the room, leaving the three musketeers drinking around the table.

"I'm going to check on Aramis." Porthos said after a while sitting in silence. Athos made no move to stop him, contemplating if it would be rude to drink the rest of the wine.

The room had grown dark so Porthos had to light a candle. Aramis was lying on the bed, a clean bandage around his side. His usual hat was placed neatly on a chair with the rest of the uniform. The bloodied bandage had been removed along with anything else that Madame Rosette may have used. Aramis seemed to sense Porthos standing there and his eyes flickered open, squinting at the light from the candle. "You alright?" Porthos grunted, taking a seat in the corner of the room.

"Yeah." Aramis answered, thinking about getting up but deciding better of it. "Where are Athos and D'artagnan?"

"Through there." Porthos gestured to the door behind him as Aramis nodded. "Your parents seem nice." To be honest, Porthos had felt a bit awkward around them. Not sure what to say.

"They are." Aramis stated, opening his eyes once more, meeting Porthos' gaze. "They're not my parents though." Porthos looked at Aramis curiously, wanting to ask what he meant but the paleness in Aramis' face made him stop.

"Get some sleep."

"You're not leaving." Aramis asked curiously.

"I've slept in worse places." Porthos answered, shuffling in the chair to get into a more comfy position. Aramis looked like he was going to protest but Porthos sent a glare his way that shut him. Shrugging, Aramis fell asleep almost as soon as he'd closed his eyes.

**Please review :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you for all the reviews **

The sun had risen by the time Aramis woke up. Glancing over to the seat Porthos had slept on he noted that I was empty. His side wasn't as painful as it had been and had, thankfully, stopped bleeding. Lifting himself up so that he was sat up, Aramis was glad when the pain was minimal. Minimal he could control.

Looking around the room, Aramis saw that I hadn't changed much in his absence. He'd spent a lot of his time in this room when he'd first come to the Rosettes. At the time all Aramis had hated the room but now he remembered it with a certain fondness.

Debating on whether movement was a good idea, Aramis lifted himself from the bed, thankful to find his clothes where in reaching distance. It took longer than it would usually to get dressed but Aramis didn't want to pull the stitching knowing from experience how painful it could be. Voices could be heard coming from the dining room and Aramis paused a moment, listening to who was out there. The only voice he heard were Athos, D'artagnan and Porthos.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" Athos asked, disapprovingly as Aramis walked into the room.

He took a seat and grabbed one of the apples left one the table before shaking his head. "No need anymore." Athos didn't look happy about it but he didn't push the conversation. "Where are Madame and Monsieur Rosette?" They'd told him to call them by their first names years ago but Aramis didn't feel comfortable saying that in front of the other three.

"I thought they were your parents?" D'artagnan asked, causing Aramis to fall silent.

"You don't have to explain." Athos said, realising something was off about the way Aramis had reacted to the question.

"It's fine." The other three waited expectedly as Aramis thought about what he should say. "I've lived here since I was 6, after my parents died."

"How did they die?" Porthos asked, not expecting an answer.

Aramis hesitated, wondering if he how to answer the question. It wasn't that he didn't trust them but it wasn't something he'd ever told anyone. Not even the Rosettes. "They were murdered in a raid. It was a small village and here weren't many fighters in the village. When the bandits came my Father had me hide under the bed. My Mother died first. I can still remember her screams as they killed her. I think my Father must have tried to fight them off but he wasn't a soldier. By the time I worked up the courage to come out the whole village was dead and the bandits were gone."

"I'm sorry." Athos said, pulling Aramis' back from memories best left buried.

"I forgot it a long time ago." Aramis reassured his friends, seeing the glances they shared.

"You can't forget something like that." Knowing Porthos was right, Aramis said nothing.

"How did you end up with Monsieur and Madame Rosette?" D'artagnan asked, earning a harsh look from Porthos.

The sound of the door opening stopped Aramis from answering the question. "Another time perhaps." Aramis said just as Madame Rosette entered the living room.

"What are you doing up?" Her tone was stern and Aramis couldn't help but grin with fondness. "Oh it doesn't matter. You." She pointed a finger at Athos. "My husband thinks you should take a look at something." Athos nodded his thanks, getting up from the chair followed by D'artagnan and Porthos. "Not you." Madame Rosette said sharply as Aramis made to follow, earning a laugh from Porthos.

"Did you tell them?" Marie asked, sitting in the seat previously occupied by Athos opposite Aramis who nodded. "But not all of it."

"I've never told anyone all of it."

"You should. It's not good to keep your secrets bottled up." Madame Rosette chastised but only half-heartedly. Aramis had always been thankful she or Antonie hadn't pushed for details about what happened because the truth was still too painful to think about. Who wouldn't find it painful though? Watching your own Father murder your Mother in cold blood.

**LINE BREAK**

Athos followed Antonie Rosette to a house near the edge of the village. He'd sent Porthos and D'artagnan to try and find out something from the other villagers to find out if anyone knew where the bandits may have run off to. "It's through there."

"Thank you, I'll take it from here Monsieur." Athos said, waiting until the other man had left before entering the house.

Athos hadn't known what to expect but what he found was certainly not it. Barrels lined the sides of the one room in the house where furniture should have been. Opening one of them, Athos wasn't surprised to find gun powder. The question was what was gun powder doing here.

**LINE BREAK**

"Gun powder?" D'artagnan asked when Athos had explained what Monsieur Rosette had shown him. "What is the gun powder for?"

"I don't know, but I think these bandits are a lot more than they first seemed." Porthos nodded in agreement.

"One of the men in the village mentioned that the bandits came every week, like clockwork." Porthos said, leaning in closer to Athos in order to stop anyone from hearing.

"When?"

"Tomorrow morning. They come from the east side."

"What are we going to do?" D'artagnan asked, leaning in closer.

"Find out what the gun powders' for and then find the bandits." Athos answered, taking a long swig from the wine cup.

**Sorry it's so short but I hope you enjoyed it anyway. Next chapter should be longer, at least I hope it will be. Please review :)**


	4. Chapter 4

"What's the gun powder for?" Athos asked as he entered the Rosettes' house. Marie and Aramis were sat at the table, talking when they entered.

"What gun powder?" Aramis asked, startled at the declaration.

"The gun powder Monsieur Rosette showed me." Athos answered, looking at Madam Rosette. "We can't help if you don't tell us the truth."

"I'm surprised my husband didn't explain." Marie said, taking a drink from her cup of wine. "Do you want a drink?"

"You're stalling." Aramis said, meeting the older woman's eyes. "Athos is right; we can't help if we don't know what's going on."

Marie smiled sadly, reaching to take Aramis' hand in her own. "That's all the gun powder we could find. When the bandits first came into the village we fought back and they didn't seem to want a fight." She was looking at Aramis as she spoke, a sad note in her voice. "You remember Anna don't you?" Aramis nodded, the young girl had been born a week before he'd left for Paris in the house. "They put gun powder in the house. She was inside when they lit the fuse. They said if we didn't cooperate the same would be done to the rest of us."

Porthos swore as Aramis wrapped a comforting arm around Marie's shoulder. "Wouldn't it be easier to rob people on the road though?" D'artagnan asked, earning the other musketeers to frown at him. "I mean, why bother threatening a whole village when it would be easier to just take money from travellers."

"I'm afraid I don't have those answers." Marie stated as she got up from the table. Aramis made to stand but she sent him a look that made him sit back down.

"How's your side?" Athos asked, taking the seat Marie had just gotten up from.

"Better." It wasn't a complete lie; the pain had subsided to a dull ache. "What are we going to do about this gun powder, then?"

"We aren't going to do anything." Athos said, noticing the way Aramis had been favouring his uninjured side.

"I wouldn't argue with him if I were you." Porthos said as Marie came back into the room, carrying a bowl of stew for the four of them. She put the bowls on the table before excusing herself from the house.

"We still need to find out where the bandits are." D'artagnan said.

Athos nodded, though he wasn't sure where to start looking for them. He knew the bandits would have to have a camp near here but it wouldn't do for them to just stumble into it. "Well, we can't just wait until they come back." Porthos argued.

"What if one of them is in the village." Aramis said. "How else would they get the gun powder into the houses." There was something niggling at the back of Aramis' head as said this, though he couldn't quite grasp the thought.

"Who?" Aramis shrugged in answer the D'artagnan's question.

"The girls' parents, Anna." Athos said.

"Who would kill their own child?" Porthos asked. "Parents are meant to love their children." Aramis knew that wasn't completely true but he didn't say anything.

"I could talk to them." Athos looked ready to argue but Aramis continued to speak, "I know them." That wasn't completely true wither, Aramis had only ever met Ana's mother and they'd never talked properly but Aramis couldn't help but feel useless not being able to do anything.

Athos sent him a look that said he didn't believe him but he said, "Fine. But Porthos will go with you. D'artagnan and I will talk to the other villagers. Find out what they know."

**LINE BREAK**

It had started raining as Aramis and Porthos made their way to the house Anna's parents were living in. Knocking on the door, Aramis was met with Anna's mother, Edith. She looked a mess though it wasn't unexpected considering she had lost her daughter. "Can we talk Madame?"

"You're Madame Rosettes' son aren't you?"

"Aramis, Madame. And this is Porthos. May we come in?" Nodding, Edith stood aside motioning for them to come in. She was about to get drinks for them but Porthos shook his head.

"Sit, Madame." She did so, looking at the two Musketeers. "We wanted to talk to you about how Anna died." Porthos said. Edith froze for a minute after Porthos said this.

"I'm sorry Madame, I know you don't want to talk about this but we want to help you. So anything you could tell us please do." Aramis took a seat opposite the woman, meeting her gaze.

Edith blushed as she met the musketeers gaze. "You were always quite the charmer." Porthos laughed when she said this. "She died because we wouldn't listen to them. They blew up the house with gun powder."

"Do you know how the gun powder got inside your house?" When Aramis asked the question, Edith averted her gaze from his own.

Aramis lifted his head to look at Porthos as Edith replied. "No, I don't."

"Are you sure?" Aramis pressed. "We want to help but we can't if you don't trust us."

The sound of the front door banging open was followed quickly by a male voice. Porthos and Aramis turned to face the man as he entered the room. "Are you deaf, she said she doesn't know." As the man entered the room, Aramis felt a twinge of familiarity. He knew the face well would never forget it, he thought. "Out." The man stated. He didn't look at Aramis twice, obviously not recognising him. Aramis could only sit in utter shock. How hadn't he known he was here? It couldn't be possible.

Porthos had a hand on his sword, not liking the tone of the man. "You're Anna's Father, we only want to help."

"Out." The man growled. It was unordinary for people to not back away from Porthos but the man stared at him, seemingly threatening Porthos to try anything.

The exchange seemed to snap Aramis out of his reverie as he stood and placed a hand on Porthos' shoulder. "We're leaving." The man watched them leave and Aramis felt his eyes drill into the back of his head.

"What's going on?" Porthos asked when they exited out of the house. "Aramis." Porthos shook Aramis' shoulder. "What's going on?"

Aramis didn't say anything, not quite believing what he'd seen. The man couldn't be alive. Not after all these years of thinking he was dead. It just couldn't be possible. "There's something I need to tell you."

**Please Review and hop you enjoyed :)**


	5. Chapter 5

Athos and D'artagnan had gone around all of the village and asked everyone they met if they knew anything. No one did, either that or they were surprisingly good at hiding it. "We should head back." Athos finally said. "They don't know anything."

It didn't take them long to get back to the Rosettes' house. The door was unlocked so they let themselves in, expecting to find Madame Rosette or her husband back. What they found instead was Aramis and Porthos sitting at the table. Aramis looked pale and D'artagnan wondered for a moment if his injury had gotten worse but the look in his friends eyes when he looked up told something else. "What happened?" Athos asked, directing the question at Porthos.

"Ask Aramis." Athos turned to face Aramis, taking in the tired look in his friend's eyes.

D'artagnan and Athos took a seat at the table, waiting expectedly for Aramis to start talking. "I know how the bandits got the gun powder into the village."

"How?" D'artagnan asked even as Porthos and Athos sent a confused look at Aramis.

"She never told us anything." Porthos said, thinking back to the conversation they had had with the dead girls' mother.

"She didn't need to." Aramis said. He knew he would have to tell them the truth though it wasn't something he wanted to. "The man, her husband he's helping them."

Porthos sent Aramis an incredulous look. "How do you know that?"

"I think you need to explain a bit more." Athos said. Looking at the other musketeers, Aramis realised that they wouldn't understand what he was talking about.

"Because he did the same thing when I was a child." Confusion was still evident in the faces of his friends, even though they already knew what had happened.

"How do you know that?" Aramis couldn't help the smile that crossed his face as the D'artagnan asked. The boy was never subtle in these things.

Aramis' tone turned sober though as he answered D'artagnan's question. "Because that man is my Father. And he killed my Mother."

"You're joking." Porthos said though he knew Aramis wasn't. Aramis who was rarely serious had taken on a tone that Porthos hadn't heard since they'd found him in the forest of Savoy. "You're not are you?"

"No." Aramis answered, not meeting the eyes of his friends. While it may have happened a long time ago, the memories where still entirely too fresh in Aramis' head.

"What happened?" Athos asked, knowing that Aramis may not want to talk about it but also knowing that if Aramis was right they needed to know more about what happened if they were to stop the same thing happening here.

Thankfully Aramis seemed to realise they needed to know, either that or he simply wanted to say it, as he nodded. "It's not a pleasant story."

"You don't have to if you don't want to." D'artagnan said, although he couldn't help be curious.

Aramis waited until his three friends were sat around the table before starting to talk. "Our village was small, smaller than this one. We didn't get a lot of visitors and there wasn't much trouble until I turned five. I can't really remember much about when the bandits first came into the village but I do remember that people started to act scared. We were lucky at first; they didn't seem interested in killing anyone. Then one day I came home from visiting a friend. My parents were arguing about something and he hit her. The next day, when my Father left for work, my Mother told me we were leaving. She said, well it doesn't matter what she said. We were meant to be gone by the time he got back but he came home early. There was a lot of shouting and my Mother screaming at my Father. Then he pulled out a knife and killed her. I don't remember running but somehow I was out on the streets. The bandits were in the village, burning the houses, killing everyone who was in their way. I saw my Father with them. Helping them."

"You got out of the village?" Aramis nodded in answer to D'artagnan's question. He was staring into space, remembering the memories of that day.

"Madame Rosette found me wandering in the forest a few days later. She took me in, gave me a home and a place to live. I had no idea he was here."

When Aramis finished speaking, he was met with silence. He didn't meet any of their gazes, afraid of what he might find in them perhaps. He felt a hand clasp his shoulder and Aramis lifted his head to meet the gaze of Porthos. "We won't let that happen here." Aramis gave Porthos a thankful look but said nothing.

Porthos met Athos' gaze as he said this. The two seemed to have a private conversation before Athos motioned for D'artagnan to follow him out of the room. "Stay with Aramis."

"What are you going to do?" D'artagnan had guessed, knowing it was what he wanted to do.

"Just stay with Aramis."

"I can help." Athos shook his head, looking at the young Gascon who had managed to get into their lives, become their friend.

"Aramis won't admit it but this is affecting him. I don't want him to do something stupid so keep an eye on him."

"And you're not." D'artagnan met Athos' gaze as he said this.

Athos said nothing instead walking back into the room where Porthos and Aramis sat. A cup of wine now sat in front of Aramis, half gone already. Porthos got up from his seat when Athos re-entered the room with D'artagnan. Aramis didn't seem to notice as Athos and Porthos sent a concerned look his way before heading out of the house.

D'artagnan took a seat opposite Aramis, taking in the older musketeer's features. He looked tired and strained. His eyes fixed on a far off point. It was odd seeing Aramis in this way. He was always the one to laugh and joke, seemingly never brought down by things but then again, seeing your Mother murdered had to have some effect on a person. Especially at such a young age.

Aramis had vaguely registered that Porthos and Athos were no longer there but he didn't have the energy to care or say anything. He could guess where they'd gone and what they were doing and a small part of him was angry. However the larger part of him just didn't seem to care. The images of his Mother lying in a pool of her own blood plagued his mind as he drank the wine given to him, hoping that the memories he'd so carefully buried would disappear.

**Please review and hop you enjoyed :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you for all of the reviews and for reading. Also, I would like to just point out now that I have no idea about any sort of medical things that are involved with being shot so if anything is inaccurate I apologise now :) Please enjoy**

"Where is he?" Porthos yelled as he and Athos entered the house. The woman came out of her room, white and shaking.

"He's gone."

"Where?" Porthos all but growled at her. Anger was radiating from the musketeer. Anger at the man who had so blatantly killed his own daughter, his wife. Had hurt Aramis.

"Where?" Athos repeated when she said nothing. "Tell us and I promise we will leave you alone. Our quarrel is not with you."

She hesitated for a minute before finally nodding. "The forest. Their camps 10 minutes on the east side."

Athos said nothing as he and Porthos left the house. A small crowd had gathered at the sounds of Porthos' angry shouting as they had entered the house. Antonie Rosette stood at the front, frowning. "What is going on?" He sounded angry, although Athos hadn't expected anything else from the man. The girl, while protecting her husband, had just lost her daughter. It was understandable that the other villagers would be protective.

Neither Porthos nor Athos said anything as they made their way back to the Rosettes' house, followed by Monsieur Rosette who kept shooting them angry and disbelieving looks. Athos had a feeling that Aramis had never said anything about his past to the Rosettes, which while surprising was understandable.

"Edith has just lost her daughter and you go and terrorize her." Antonie shouted as they entered the house. Marie was in the dining room, sitting at the table with D'artagnan. Noting that Aramis wasn't there Athos sent D'artagnan a questioning look who motioned back to the bedrooms. Athos nodded his head in understanding. He had seemed tired when they had left and Athos was honestly shocked he'd managed to stay on his feet for so long, after being shot. Then again it was Aramis and he could be quite stubborn when he wanted to be.

"What do you mean terrorizing Edith?" Marie asked, picking up on her husband's angry tone. D'artagnan recognised the tone as one a disappointed and angry Mother might use. The young Gascon could imagine Marie would have needed that tone a lot when Aramis was younger.

"We needed answers." Porthos answered. "And we need to go now."

"Not until you explain." Marie's' tone was not one that brokered for any argument.

"I am afraid her husband has been helping the bandits." Athos said, careful not to mention the fact that the man was also Aramis' Father.

Marie and Antonie shared a disbelieving look as he said this. "I don't believe it. He is a good man and he loved Anna."

"I'm sure he did but the fact remains the same. Now I am sorry but we must be leaving." Athos replied, moving back towards the door. D'artagnan and Porthos had gotten up also, following Athos out of the house.

A door opening down the hall paused the three musketeers as Aramis walked out of the room. Dark rings circled his eyes and standing up, Athos could see he was certainly favouring his uninured side. "Where are you going?" His tone was at odds with his unusually haphazard appearance. They didn't need to reply as Aramis seemed to have guessed. "I can help."

"You won't be any help, not in this state." While it was blunt, Athos didn't want to risk Aramis getting injured more, which was a large possibility in the state he was in. "Stay here, we'll be fine." Aramis scowled but made no argument. In all honesty he was grateful Athos had said it. The pain, which had seemed too subsided, had returned. Not to mention the thought of his Father being there. While Aramis hated the man it was not something he wanted to see, his Father dead or dying.

Madam Rosette had followed the three out of the room, scowling angrily at them. "You're wrong."

"I wish we were, Madame." Porthos said, turning his gaze from Aramis to Marie.

Without another word the three left the house, leaving Aramis and mare standing in the hallway. "What is going on, Aramis?" Aramis said nothing, instead averting his gaze to look at the wall. Sensing his reluctance, Marie nodded her head in understanding. "You don't have to say anything. Not unless you want to. I just wish you would trust us."

Aramis felt a flush of embarrassment cross him. "I do trust you."

"I know but not with your past. You never have." Aramis didn't know what to say to that. Marie and Antonie had given him everything he could ever want; saved him from a fate that would have been his if they hadn't found him when they did. And still he would not tell them the truth.

"It's my burden, not yours." Marie nodded her head in understanding, placing a comforting hand on Aramis' shoulder.

"Just know we are here. We always have been. Just tell me this. Did you tell them?" Aramis nodded his head in answer, wondering how the woman who had raised him as a son would respond. Surprising him, she smiled a smile that told of relief. "Good. Now get some rest. You look terrible." Aramis let out a choked laugh at her statement before nodding his head in thanks and returning to the room.

**LINE BREAK**

D'artagnan held the pistol in his hands, quietly sneaking up to the camp. It was a small camp with no guard. He counted about 20 men, all standing around talking. They weren't particularly prepared, D'artagnan couldn't help but notice. A man stood in the middle, obviously in charge of the bandits and D'artagnan wondered for a moment if that was Aramis' Father. He was certainly old enough with the greying brown hair. From this distance, D'artagnan couldn't pick out his features that well but the man held himself in a way that was very similar to that of Aramis. Aiming his pistol, D'artagnan waited for Athos' signal.

Glancing to both sides, Porthos saw Athos and D'artagnan on opposite ends of the campsite. He had his sword in his hands, ready to jump out of the trees and attack the bandits at a moment's notice. His gaze, like that of D'artagnan's was fixed on the figure of Aramis' Father. An anger filling him as he thought of what the man had done to Aramis.

Athos gave a nod, when he saw D'artagnan and Porthos were in position. Silently, he moved towards the campsite, dispatching one of the guards as he moved. The man died quickly and silently as a shot came from the forest. A man fell dead from D'artagnan's shot. This seemed to alert the men to action as they all jumped to their feet, weapons in hand.

Porthos was standing on one end, Athos at another and D'artagnan at the last. They laughed when they saw the three of them, foolishly thinking they could out win the musketeers. As a few of them advanced, however, the bandits soon realised how mistaken they were. The three of men were angry and they fought reflected this. Killing each of the bandits that were foolish enough to come near them. Some of the bandits tried to run but D'artagnan soon dealt with them with a quick shot in their direction.

It was a bloody business as the musketeers killed all of the bandits. A quick business but violent as the swords clashed against one another and blood dripped from wounds. Soon the sound of battle and shouts fell silent as the last of the men fell to the floor. Dead.

"Where is he?" Porthos asked, unsheathing his sword as he looked around for the man.

"He's not here." Athos answered his voice as angry as Porthos'.

"Then where." But as D'artagnan said it he came to the realisation of where the man had run to.

"The village." Porthos said, coming to the same conclusion as D'artagnan did.

"The gun powder." Athos shouted, turning back to the village. A loud explosion echoed across the forest, causing the three friends to stare at one another in horror.

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	7. Chapter 7

Aramis woke to the sound of a loud explosion that seemed to rock the very foundations of the house. Groaning, he rolled out of the bed, grabbing the weapons he had left on the chair. Putting on his coat, ignoring the pain that flared in his side at the fast movement, Aramis rushed about of the bedroom, hoping to find Marie or Antonie there. When he saw they weren't he ran out of the house.

Thick smoke filled the air and a spasm of coughs hit him as he walked further into the smoke. Disorientated, Aramis noticed that screams where echoing from some of the houses. Fire had caught on a number of them. For a moment the present mixed with the past and Aramis couldn't quite remember where he was. Then a woman ran into him, shouting at him for help. "My son. You have to help." She was pointing at one of the houses, which had almost nearly collapsed in on itself from the blast.

In retrospect, Aramis should have realised it was a bad idea to go in there but Aramis' head wasn't fully clear so instead of stopping the hysterical woman from running into the house, Aramis did so. He knew it was a mistake the minute he entered the house but he could see the boy, at the top of a set of stairs, looking down with a scared look on his face. The stairs where nearly half collapsed and Aramis knew there was no way for either himself to climb up or the boy to climb down.

"Jump." The boy shook his head in response, backing away from the stairs. "I'll catch you. I promise." Something in Aramis' tone must have had the boy agreeing with him because the next thing the musketeer knew the boy had jumped.

Letting out a grunt of pain, Aramis felt his knees give out as the boy fell into his arms. He should have been thankful the kid was light but right now only the searing pain in his side was obvious to Aramis. Somehow, he managed to get out of the house before it fully collapsed in on itself. The woman and her son had disappeared in the smoke.

Another blast rocked the streets, and Aramis felt his legs give out from underneath him. Vaguely, Aramis could hear the distant shouts of those around him but Aramis couldn't seem to concentrate on them. Black dots played around the edges of his vision as he willed himself to stay conscious.

**LINE BREAK**

Athos, D'artagnan and Porthos made it to the village just in time to see the second set of gun powder go off. "Find Aramis." Athos shouted at the other two, motioning for them to head down to the village. As they nodded and ran into the village, Athos had to think how things had gone so wrong.

In the distant, Athos could see the house that had held all the gun powder the villagers had found, standing in one piece. Without thinking, Athos started running that way, into the smoke filled streets.

**LINE BREAK**

Somehow D'artagnan and Porthos had managed to get separated in the smoke and chaos surrounding them. The young Gascon was, currently, standing in a middle of a street, searching for something that was familiar to him. He didn't know the village well enough to be able to find his way around and the smoke was making everything all the more confusing. A sudden yell made D'artagnan turn around only to come face to face with Marie Rosette.

She had tears running down her face as she limped towards him. A bloody gash crossed her pale face and D'artagnan had to hold out a hand to steady her. "Have you seen Aramis?" D'artagnan's question was answered with a confused look, which stayed there for a minute before she shook her head. For a moment D'artagnan felt worry over their missing comrade but then he remembered that Aramis was a musketeer. He'd be fine. "Are you okay?"

The same process was repeated but this time she spoke. "Antonie's dead." Her voice hitched as she spoke and D'artagnan felt a moment of worry that the woman would collapse.

"Can you walk?" Shaking her head, D'artagnan groaned, helping to her feet. He could only hope Porthos, Aramis and Athos would be alright on their own.

**LINE BREAK**

Porthos hadn't seen so much destruction out of a battlefield before and he felt his anger increase all the more at the destruction and dead bodies surrounding him. The shouts had gone now, indicating the villagers had either all gotten out or they were dead. It was a distressing thought but at this moment all Porthos wanted to do was find Aramis. If they were lucky the other musketeer would have found his way out but Porthos knew Aramis well enough to know he wouldn't have left without trying to help. And with his injury it was likely he'd only get himself hurt more or worse. But Porthos refused to consider the alternative.

Turning a corner, Porthos looked into a street. The smoke had almost fully cleared of smoke. There wasn't anyone down this street so Porthos walked past it and onto the next. This one was not clear. A body lay on the ground. Running up towards it, Porthos let out a sharp intake of breath as he turned the body so it was laying on its' back.

Aramis' unconscious face was pale and for a moment Porthos thought he might be dead. Then he saw the slight rise and fall in his friend's chest and he breathed a sigh of relief. Knowing they couldn't stay there, Porthos picked Aramis up, mindful of not hurting him any worse than he already was he hurried back the way he had come.

**LINE BREAK**

Athos made it to the house in one piece. At first he thought he might have made a mistake as no one was there. Taking out his sword and pistol, Athos made his way around the side of the house. No one was there.

The sound of feet snapping a branch made Athos turn back to the front of the house. A figure stood with a torch in hand. The fire coming from the stick burned bright and Athos aimed his pistol before the man could throw it into the house.

A loud shot ran through the air as the shot hit the mans; chest. He looked forwards, open mouthed, staring straight at Athos. Before the man could completely fall dead to the ground, he threw the flaming torch into the house.

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	8. Chapter 8

D'artagnan stood next to Madame Rosette as the final explosion of gun powder pierced the sky. It was at this moment that Marie collapsed onto the ground. Kneeling next to the older woman, D'artagnan quickly looked for any injuries but she seemed relatively unhurt just dazed. Looking around, D'artagnan noticed that most of the villagers had managed to get out of the way before the gunpowder had gone off. But Porthos, Athos and Aramis weren't anywhere to be seen. Helping Marie to her feet, D'artagnan walked her towards one of the other villagers, telling them to keep an eye on her.

It didn't take long to find Porthos after that. "Did you find Aramis?" D'artagnan asked when he walked up. Porthos nodded in answer. "So where is he?"

"He was unconscious." D'artagnan didn't need to ask how bad it was; Porthos' tone of voice sad it all. "Athos?" In answer, D'artagnan shrugged. An unfamiliar but heavy silence clouded them after this. One friend missing and another possibly dying. There wasn't anything either man could say to that fact.

**LINE BREAK**

Athos' blinked sluggishly, his ears ringing from the blast. Slowly, the musketeer climbed onto unsteady feet, covering his mouth in order to stop from breathing in the heavily smoked air. He could barely see in front of him but Athos didn't need his sight to know the damage that would have been done. Slowly, he checked for any bleeding, glad when he found none. He'd been lucky. He knew that, if he hadn't managed to get under cover behind the rock then he'd be dead.

While Athos was not unaccustomed to being unsteady on his feet after large amounts of drink, the fact that the smoke clouded most of the area caused his progression to be slow. It was an effort just to put one foot in front of another.

Not for the first time Athos wondered what had gone so wrong. They had had a plan but everything seemed to have been abandoned when Aramis had been injured. Then they had come here. Learnt things about Aramis' past, which Athos was sure the other musketeer would have, rather have stayed buried. Everyone had their demons, and Athos had never asked for any of his friends to reveal theirs. Couldn't have because he would not tell them his. But Aramis had still been forced to tell them his. Something which could have should have been avoided if things had just gone as they were meant to. A simple mission. Athos could laugh at that statement.

Somehow Athos had managed to stagger his way out of the burning village and towards the group of villagers that had gotten away. They ignored him as he moved through them, looking for the other musketeers. "Athos!" D'artagnan shouted, waving over to him.

"What happened to you?" Porthos asked, slapping Athos' back in a friendly manner.

Athos ignored the other man, instead asking, "Where's Aramis?" The question made the other two fell silent. "What happened?"

"I'm not sure." Porthos answered. "I found him unconscious." There was a solemn tone to Porthos' voice.

"He'll be alright though." D'artagnan said, though if it was to reassure himself or the others' Athos couldn't quite tell.

**LINE BREAK**

Flickering his eyes open, Aramis let out a groan of discomfort as he shifted to the side. A warm hand gently pushed him down. Opening his eyes, Aramis turned to face the woman. She was unfamiliar to Aramis but pretty enough. Though pretty wasn't something he wanted right now. "Don't move."

"I've always been a terrible patient." Aramis joked, though his voice sounded tired and faint even to his own ears.

"You've torn the stitching." Was all she said, though she sent him a coy smile that Aramis would normally have returned if he wasn't so tired. "Your friends are outside waiting to see you but if you're not feeling alright…"

"It's fine." Aramis cut in, sending the girl an apologising look. He was slowly getting up on the bed, only to feel a sharp pain in his stomach. The girl frowned but said nothing as she disappeared. Ever since he'd come back into the village, Aramis had been running on adrenaline. Desperate to help those that had helped him. Now though he felt like he had no energy.

"Shouldn't you be resting?" Porthos asked as he came up to Aramis. His voice held concern but Aramis was glad to see the familiar smile, even if it did lack its usual energy.

"Probably." Porthos grinned. "Where are we?"

"Not all of the houses were destroyed in the blasts." Athos answered. He and D'artagnan had entered the room with Porthos and the three of them were now standing next to the bed Aramis was sitting in.

"Marie and Antonie?" A look passed D'artagnan's' face and Aramis couldn't help but feel a certain amount of panic at the look. Holding back the urge to get out of the bed, Aramis turned to D'artagnan. "What happened?"

D'artagnan looked down at the floor, unsure of how to say what was needed to be said, not wanting to hurt their friend any more than he obviously was. "Madame Rosette is fine." Thankfully Aramis didn't seem to need D'artagnan to say anymore as he nodded.

"Perhaps you three should go back to Paris."

"We can stay." Aramis shook his head when Athos said this.

"When I'm better I'll come back. There's no point us all staying here." Aramis said. While he would appreciate their company a larger part of Aramis simply wanted to be left in peace to sort through his thoughts.

He expected a fight but Athos nodded his head. Porthos and D'artagnan looked like they wanted to argue but Athos held up a hand. "Will you be alright?"

"I'll be fine." Aramis answered, sending the other man a grateful look.

"Then we'll leave at dawn tomorrow." With that the three left the room, leaving Aramis to collapse onto the bed. Closing his eyes, Aramis felt the tears come to his eyes but he did nothing to push them away.

**LINE BREAK**

"We can't just leave him here." D'artagnan argued as they left the room Aramis was in.

"We need to." Athos answered. "He needs time to sort through his problems. He'll be fine, D'artagnan, there's no need to worry him."

"Athos is right." It was a surprise to Athos that Porthos was backing him up on this matter but then Porthos had always been good at giving them space whenever they needed it and comfort when they needed it. "Should we tell him about what happened with the bandits?"

"Another time perhaps but now Aramis has enough to sort through." Athos answered. D'artagnan frowned at the other two musketeers but didn't argue with them.

"He'll be alright won't he?" D'artagnan asked.

"Of course he will." Porthos said and Athos agreed with the bigger musketeer. Aramis would be fine, he always was.

**One more chapter left so please review and thanks for reading :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**2 Weeks Later **

Aramis hesitated on his way back into the Garrison. Marie had asked him to stay longer. With Antonie dead, Aramis felt guilty about leaving her but he knew Marie was fine on her own. He had done what he could to help his old home but now he had to return to his home. His injury was almost healed now and only the occasional twinge when he moved wrong reminded Aramis of it. Well, that and the memories.

After the other musketeers had left, Aramis had re-entered the village, against the better thoughts of the others. Aramis hadn't known what he had expected to gain from it, going into the village. Walking around he had seen the place he had called home destroyed but it was when he saw the body of his Father that Aramis felt emotion.

The man had abused and killed his Mother. Destroyed both his childhood homes. And still Aramis mourned him. It was a strange thing to see ones Father dead. Emotions that varied from sadness to indifference. Aramis didn't know which was worse. To feel sorry for the man or to feel nothing.

Aramis knew it had been Athos who had killed the man. D'artagnan had been with Marie and Porthos with him. And Aramis knew no one else who could have done that. If the man had been more of a Father then perhaps Aramis would have felt anger towards Athos at killing the man but as it was all he could feel was grateful. However cruel it sounded.

He had been hovering at the front of the garrison for longer than he'd planned, though he was thankful his friends had decided to leave him be. When he walked to the garrison, Porthos greeted him with a clap on the shoulder.

No words passed between the friends and Aramis was glad that they knew him well enough to know he didn't want to talk about the events that had transpired. "Marie?" D'artagnan asked as Aramis sat at the table.

Athos handed him a drink and Aramis took a swig before answering. "As well as she can be."

D'artagnan might have said more but Porthos put a hand on the younger boys shoulder, silencing him. "How's your side?" Athos asked, giving Aramis a look that he always gave any of them when they were injured.

"Better." It was a short answer but Aramis wasn't in the mood for talk.

Athos nodded his head, sharing a look with Porthos and D'artagnan. It seemed to be a confirmation of a possible conversation from earlier. "If you need to talk about anything that happened, where here." Porthos stated.

Aramis said nothing in answer, unsure of how to proceed. "But if you don't want to we won't push you either." Athos reassured Aramis, seeing the look that crossed Aramis' eyes.

"Thank you." Aramis answered. "But there's nothing more to say."

"How 'bout a drink then?" Porthos said, a smile breaking across his face.

And like that the conversation drifted away from topics that where better left buried. Aramis said nothing as the four of them made their way to the tavern close to the garrison.

None of them commented on Aramis' silence as they drank, even Athos seemed to be in a better mood than usual. The company was enough for Aramis though, the comfort of knowing his friends where there if he wanted to talk. They were the family he had always wished for.

**I know sappy sappy ending but I'm in a sappy mood. As always please review and thank you for reviewing, reading, favouring, following etc. :)**


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